Destiny Unwritten
by Dasha Celox
Summary: Dean has strange dream of a woman asking for his help. In exchange, she offers knowledge of Lucifer that may be the key to saving Sam and keeping Dean from being Michael's vessal. But there's just something off about her.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Dream a Dream**

**A/N: Supernatural fanfic. It's based off of the newest season, after the episode "My Bloody Valentine". There might be a OC/Dean pairing later on. But nothing for now.  
**

Dean was absolutely positive he was _not_ supposed to be dreaming. After all, Sammy had just shot him up with a drug guaranteed to knock him out for a couple of hours. _You need the sleep,without dreams_, Sam had said. So, that lent him his confusion at the scene around him. A field. A field full of lavender. The flowers swayed with the gentle wind that seemed to dance playfully through out the clearing. Sunlight warmed the ground, lending the feeling of spring and a place of wonder. He stood at the edge of it, just in the shadows cast by the dense pine trees. Just as he was beginning to wonder where it was going, he spotted a figure in the middle of the field. A woman, he could tell by the curves that were barely visible beneath the white dress that reminded him of mist. She turned and he sucked in a breath. Eyes the color of ice.

_Come to me, Dean,_ her voice floated through his head, a soft breathy sound that had him stepping into the light before he could even think about moving.

Dean forced himself to stop and consider the possibilities. It could be a trap, a demon in disguise. It could be another angel, looking to kill Sam. After Anna, Dean found any alluring female untrustworthy. Or it could be just another of his erotic dreams. The woman waited patiently, neither moving towards him nor compelling him with her voice. She simply waited, ice blue eyes following his actions with casual interest.

_Oh, to hell with it,_ he decided, strolling forward with the signature arrogant confidence that was classically Dean.

Even as he moved forward, she still didn't move. When he stood only inches from her, she finally moved. Her hand came up and gripped his neck. Eyes that were previously only curious turned intense. He wondered fleetingly how his imagination could make up such a contradicting woman.

"Look at me," she commanded, still in that soft voice. He was helpless to resist. Green eyes connected to blue. He noticed things about her then. Her hair was brunette, dark and rich. It was wavy, reminding him of curling vines as it brushed against her pale collar bone and shoulders. She also only came up to his shoulder, but she still seemed to command a strength that staggered him.

When she leaned up to speak in his ear, he dropped his head to catch her voice. Her breath brushed against his neck, shiver racing down his spine. Before he knew it, his arms wrapped around her and pulled her to him. The white and silver silk that covered her frame felt cold, like it really was made of mist and fog.

"Help me, Dean," she murmured in his ear.

Before he could question what she meant, she pulled his head to the side and crushed her lips against his. He was startled at the desperation in her kiss, but before he could react, visions flashed before his eyes.

_A highway sign, with the number 6. A town, small and rural. A well-kept mansion. The woman walking down the stairs, beckoning for him to follow. A lavish bedroom,with a canopy bed and a window seat. The woman seated there, a single tear running down her cheek. She turned and looked at him, eyes filled with strength that again surprised him._

As soon as the visions started, they ended. Dean blinked, surprised to find his arms now empty. She stood, a few feet from him, back turned so she faced the woods that surrounded the clearing.

"Follow them, Dean. They will lead you to me," she commanded, starting to walk away.

"Wait a minute. You think you can just pop into my mind and tell _me_ what to do? Not even fucking ANGELS can do that," Dean told her, striding forward and gripping her arm in a firm hand.

He spun her towards him, wanting answers. But as he did, her free hand snapped out, connecting hard with his jawline. It had enough power to shock him in loosening his grip so she could rip her arm from him. She fled till she was in the safety of the shadows of the trees before turning back to him.

"It isn't for nothing. I have something you want, no, something you _need_. Especially if you want to save your brother, Sam."

Dean sucked in a breath, feeling the faint flicker of hope deep in his gut. _Could she really... about him?_ Dean wondered. He looked at her, seeing a faint smile flicker across her lips.

"I know about Lucifer. And I know things you don't. Come to me and I'll tell you everything I know," she told him.

She turned from him and disappeared into the shadows, mist and fog obscuring her figure till he couldn't make it out. Information about Lucifer? Dean was sorely tempted to grasp this faint glimmer of hope. Hadn't he just begged Heaven from help? Maybe this was it. But he didn't even know her name.

_Wake, Dean. And come find me. If you can, _there was a hint of challenge in the voice as it breezed through his mind. That settled it. Dean never could resist a challenge, especially from a woman.

* * *

Dean shot up in the hotel bed, sucking in a breath as he emerged from his deep sleep. His eyes darted around the room, taking in the shabby curtains and cream -colored wallpaper that was part of every motel they seemed to rent.

"That sedative wore off fast. You were only out for," Sam glanced at his watch, "four hours."

"I can't believe you drugged me, Sam," Dean accused, running a hand through rumpled hair.

"You don't sound too mad," Sam told him, leaning back in the reclining chair with his laptop resting on his legs.

Dean swung his legs off the bed and rested his elbows on his knees, shaking his head to rid it of the fog of sleep. He had a feeling he was supposed to remember something, something important.

_Dean!_ A soft breathy voice, fading as he grew more awake, sounded through his mind, the frustrated and annoyed tone making him snort.

And that's when he remembered. A field of lavender. A woman with eyes like ice and brunette hair. Like a shock to the system, he bolted up, diving for his shoes and struggling to pull them on. Sam sat up in the chair, closing his laptop with a snap.

"What is it?" he demanded, standing and putting away his laptop.

"I... err.. had a dream," Dean mumbled, shrugging his jacket on and searching for his keys.

"You mean, like one of angel visits? From Cas or Anna?" Sam questioned, shouldering the backpack and grabbing his shoes.

"Yeah, something like that," Dean avoided his gaze as he grabbed the keys to his precious Impala, "You go get us checked out."

* * *

Dean waited impatiently in the driver's seat, fingers tapping against the steering wheel. He wanted to get on the road, _now. _Dean kept telling himself that it was because the hope that they could defeat Lucifer. That they could save Sam from his fate as the Devil's vessel. It wasn't because the passionate, fiery woman with the hidden strength. She was a means to an end, that's all.

"Alright. All set. Let's head out," Sam said, opening the door and sliding into the seat.

Dean silently cursed for letting his guard down and shrugged in Sam's general direction. Starting the car, he pulled out of the cheap motel and onto road, in the direction that would feed them onto Highway 6.

_Follow the damn signs, _Dean simmer quietly to himself, _Life used to be so simple._

_**A/N: And there you have it. The introduction into this tale of good vs. evil. Don't worry. The next chapter will be up soon. Please, read and review.**_

_**-Dasha  
**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Into a Dragon's Cave**

**A/N: So, we skip ahead past the traveling phase because we all know how it goes. Enjoy.**

Dean snarled as he fired another round from his shot gun at the pursuing demons. _Follow the signs, follow the signs_, Dean mentally raged at himself, reloading as both him and Sam jogged backward and away from their pursuers.

"How did you get us into this!" Sam shouted at him, nailing another demon in the gut. It wouldn't stop him, but it would slow him down.

"Now is not the time, Sammy!" Dean snarled back shooting the last and then turning tail to sprint his ass off.

"We're not getting out of here, yet," Sam panted next to him before veering off to the right.

Dean bit off a curse before following his little brother down the hall. They had followed the signs and found the mansion they were looking for just off a beaten road a few miles from the small town in South Dakota They scoped and watched for three days before deciding to simply storm in and take them by surprise. And they had ended up finding a horde of demons taking care of the place. Dean would smack this woman when they found her. Sam opened every door on the left and Dean every on the right. At the second door, Dean paused. The room had a huge canopy bed with a window seat and on the window seat, wrapped in a black wool blanket, was a woman. A woman with brunette hair.

"Dean, did you..." Sam trailed off as he joined his brother in the doorway, "It's her, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is," Dean murmured, no trace of doubt in his voice.

Both men stared for a moment long. The woman leaned against the window plane, eyes closed in sleep, barely resembled the spit-fire from Dean's dream. She skin was pale, sickly so, and she looked several tens pounds slimmer that Dean remembered. Finally, both stepped into the room and towards her. Eyes snapped open and turned towards them and Dean was reassured that this was the one they were looking for. Ice blue eyes stared at them with a defiance that seemed impossible for such a sickly looking woman.

"It took you long enough," the voice that had been soft and breathy cracked as she spoke and she took a rattle, body shuddering breath.

Dean growled in her general direction and motioned for Sam to take her while he watched the door. Holding his shotgun in his right hand, Sam kneel, her back to him. Gripping his shoulders with sender hands, she got onto Sam's back while he supported her with his other hand. With a grunt, he stood and moved to the door. Slowly, quietly, they made their way down the hall, weapons held ready.

"Go right," the woman spoke from Sam's shoulder.

"No offense, but you don't seem to be in any condition to be _giving directions,_" Dean seethed over his shoulder, still raging about being led into this demon breeding grounds in the first place.

She sighed from Sam's back and started sliding from him. Sam helped her land safetly on the ground and then replaced his other hand on the shotgun. Pulling the blanket more tightly around her, she padded softly on bare feet to the right.

"Then go left," she murmured from ahead, moving swiftly for someone who seemed to be ill.

Sam glanced at Dean and then shrugged, following behind the woman, murmuring something about her knowing better than them. Dean bit out a few bitter curses before swallowing a good amount of pride and following after them. She lead them to the end of the hall and turned left, going inside what seemed like a study. Dean snorted and smirked towards huddling black figure.

"Well, babe, you led us into a _dead end. _Did we come here to find your doll or something?" Dean accused, taking what was supposed to be a menacing step towards her.

"Don't be such an ass, Mr. Winchester. Nobody likes a know-it-all," She threw over her shoulder, pushing what seemed like a small bookcase till it swung open.

"A servant's entrance," she said smugly.

Dean rocked back on his heels, blinking at the sheer obstinate of this woman to talk to him as if she was in charge. Sam chuckled quietly behind him and then discreetly turned it into a cough as turned Dean shot a glare over his shoulder at him. He turned back to see the corner of the blanket disappearing into the dark interior and cursed loudly. This woman wanted to be caught, that must have been it. Both Dean and Sam raced after her, ducking into the entrance and jogging the distance until they emerged into the kitchen.

There she sat, munching on a roll with a bowl of sliced fruit held in other arm. She glanced in their direction and slide off the stool.

"Well, we should leave now. They should be realizing that I'm gone in..." she glanced at the ceiling, seeming to mentally count in her head, "three seconds."

Sure enough, there was a screech and the woman gave a smug smile.

"Ah. I love that sound," she murmured in dreamy voice.

"Alright, enough of this," Dean muttered, striding forward and scooping her up over his shoulder.

Giving a slight giggle, she rested an elbow against his back and propping her chin in her hand.

"So, Sam, how are you feeling? Nasty incident with Famine, I heard. I'm glad your feeling better," she chatted with Dean's little brother, who walked behind them.

"Oh... er.. Yeah. Feelin' great. By the way, what is your name?" he questioned, glancing over his shoulder.

"Oh, silly me! Keep forgetting. Back door, Dean dear. My name is Dasha," she said, holding out her other hand to shake with Sam.

Dean growled and turned, heading towards the back door. Kicking it open with a booted foot, he head out and towards the hidden Impala.

"Oh, I love this car. Such a beauty," Dasha sighed as Dean opened the passenger door and Sam pushed the passenger seat down as Dean unceremoniously dumped her into the back seat. She rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him before settling behind the passenger, smiling at Sam as he slide in.

* * *

"Alright. We want an explanation. Now," Dean slammed the motel door and whirled to face Dasha, who sat on the edge of the bed, blanket still wrapped around her.

"Sam, can I have that bottled water?" Dasha asked politely, pointing towards the bottled water on the desk near the closed laptop.

While Sam handed her the opened bottle, Dean ran his hands through his hair in aggravated manner. Dasha brought the water to her lips and in five thirsty gulps, consuming what the bottle contained. Wiping her lips on the blanket, she met Dean's glare and finally nodded.

"Alright, alright. Don't get your panties in a twist, Dean dear. I'll tell you," she told him, waving a hand in his direction. She waved Sam over and patted the bed next to her. After Sam sat, she took a deep breath and leveled her gaze on Dean.

"I'm a Seer."

"Like a physic?" Dean questioned in a disbelieving voice.

A bubbling laugh escaped from her throat as she took another water bottle from Sam, who offered it up at her motion.

"Please, do not confuse us with them. We are two _entirely_ different beings. Physics get their powers from fickle spirits, be they friendly or no. Seers, like moi, get their visions from... what we shall refer to as Divine Intervention," Dasha explained, taking time between sips of water to give a proper explanation.

Dean and Sam stared at her for a moment before Sam stood and they moved a good distance from her to confer quietly.

"What do you think?" Sam questioned in a lowered voice.

"What do I think? I think she's insane! And a pain in the ass, too," Dean murmured in an enraged whisper, annoyed with himself for believing any glimmer of hope.

"I think she might know something," Sam mumbled glancing back at Dasha,who continued to sip from the bottle as if she was enjoying a luxury vacation instead of hiding in a cheap motel and having just escaped from a horde of demons.

"Then, your insane too!" Dean snarled at him.

"No, he's not. And I'm not either. Well, not right now. I have been, many times. It got boring, so I decide to become sane again. Tricky process, that is," Dasha chuckled, shaking her head as if remembering a fond memory.

"You've been insane? Holy hell, how did we get in this?" Dean said, throwing his hands up in frustration as Sam bit back a smile at his antics.

"Call your little angel friend. They'll verify what I'm telling you," Dasha wiggled her fingers towards Dean's front pocket before gulping down the rest of the water, "But while you do that, I am going to take a very hot bath."

She swept from the room and into the bathroom, the door closing softly with a 'click' as she flickered the lock closed. Dean stared at the door with his mouth hanging open in outrage and confusion. Sam coughed politely into his hand to grab Dean's attention before grabbing his laptop and sitting in the chair.

"How does she know about Cas?" Dean questioned in a stunned voice.

"She's a Seer. Just call him," Sam shrugged and clicked his laptop on.

* * *

"Cas, I.. er... need your opinion on something. We're in room 304 at the Motel 6 on Highway 6."

Just as Dean finished speaking, Castiel appeared out of thin air in front of Sam, clicking his phone shut. After a moment, Dean followed suit.

"Dude, I don't think I can ever get used to that," Dean muttered to him, sitting on the edge of one of the beds and resting his elbows on his knees.

"What is it that you need my opinion on?' Cas asked, always one to get right down to business.

Dean hooked his thumb towards the bathroom door, where a soft, very feminine humming was drifting through the wooden planks that barred the way.

"She says she's a Seer, which she claims is different than a physic. She told us to call you to prove it," Dean explained.

Castiel stared at the door for a moment and then nodded.

"Seers _are_ different than physics. Seers are much more powerful, given their power through God, many eons ago. Seers today have inherited their powers from those in the past, usually from the mother. Seers are only female, each drawing their powers from a certain element. This one seems to draw it through water," Cas explained, picking up one of the three empty water bottle to explain a point.

"Seers are neutral, allying with neither good nor evil. They simply exist. They rally together, usually in the most powerful families in the world, to keep themselves safe. They don't have arch-angels, like prophets, or demons, like witches. They don't have any supernatural strength or speed. They only have the ability to heal very rapidly."

"So, they provide insight to the future to both sides?" Sam questioned.

"Basically," Cas shrugged.

"That's bullshit," Dean snorted, "why doesn't either side kill them?"

"The Seer's Convent. If one Seer was killed by one side, every other Seer refused to provide information to that side for a century," Cas nodded.

"But they are just like every other human. How can they do that without all of them being killed off?" Sam asked, typing idly at his laptop as he listened.

"Seers are very good at avoiding capture, when they set their mind to it. You know, being about to see the future," Cas picked up the other bottled on the floor, examining them closely, "What did you say this Seer's name was?"

Before either men could answer, the bathroom door open and, in a cloud of steam, Dasha emerged, previously sickly pale skin flushed with a healthy red from the water. Clothed in a white fluffy robe entirely to big for her, she cast a beaming smile towards the angel. Castiel, normally not at a loss for words, simply stared as she toweled her damp dark hair with one hand.

"Hello, Castiel," Dasha purred in a low voice, "I should have known it would have been you."

**A/N: So there you go. The reason the woman knows too much for her own good. And probably why she gets on Dean's nerves. Hm. She seems to know Castiel. How? Why? Will Dean understand any of this?**

**Review, please. ^^**

**-Dasha**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Questions, Questions Everywhere**

**A/N: Sorry for updating so late. this was a tricky chapter. And I recently got two jobs. So, writing will take a back seat to those. Fear not, i'll stil update, just very slowly.**

"Cas, you know her?!" Dean demanded, head snapping back and forth between the two so fast that Dasha thought he might snap his neck.

"Well, we haven't met. It's more like we've heard of each other. Though I'm almost positive every angel knows about the Seer Goddess Dasha," Dahsa said, making quotation marks around the words 'Seer Goddess' and making a disgusted face as well.

"Cas, care to explain?" Sam asked, snapping his laptop shut as this started to become more engaging.

"Oh, I'll explain my part. I know of Cas because I helped locate his vessel, once upon a time," Dasha said, curling up on the open bed and snuggling with one of the pillows.

"I thought angels didn't need help locating vessels," Dean told in a snide tone, wanting to prove her wrong at least somewhere.

"Oh, my dear Dean, then the angels would have _no problem_ finding you and sweet Sammy boy," Dasha sighed dramatically.

"Vessels sometimes slip through our location, accidentally. Then we can't find them. Seers, sometimes, are able to help relocate them," Cas finally spoke up.

"That explains how you know Castiel, but how does he know of you?" Sam questioned Dasha.

Dasha simply laid her head on her pillow, eyes sliding over to Cas. It was obvious she was going to let him explain this part. She and Cas held each others gazes for several silent seconds, Castiels' accusing while Dasha's becoming more and more amused. Finally, when it became apparent that Dasha would not speak, Castiel straitened his shoulders looked from Sam to Dean.

"Dasha is the most powerful Seer ever born within the last two centuries. Because of her gift, which manifested at an early age, she earned the title 'Seer Goddess' among her own kind. They almost worshiped her. They expected her to follow their rules, such as her gift was. But when she was 18 and capable of choosing her own future, she chose to separate herself from the Seer's Convent and therefore the Seer's protection. And because of that, she became a target for both demons... and angels," Castiel explained.

"Why? So they could kill her?" Sam questioned.

"No, they wouldn't benefit from that. Without the protection, they were free to threaten me, threaten my family... torture me," Dasha finally spoke, he tone scathing as her eyes burned into Castiel.

"I'm not part of them anymore," Castiel defended, visibly tensing as she glared at him.

"Doesn't matter very much now," Dasha sighed, returning to her casual tone once more.

"So, they wanted you for your predictions. Why? Can't you just lie?" Dean asked,snorting at her switch of personality.

"Wrong," Dasha shot at him, holding up both hands in the shape of an 'x', "Seers can't lie about what they see. It goes against the pact they made for their powers. As soon as they lie, they either a) return their element or b) turn into a veggie."

"Return to their elements?" Sam blinked while Dean crossed his arm and made a face at Dasha.

"Burned to death, buried alive, drowning, and suffocation; fire, earth, water, air," Dasha ticked them off one at a time.

"That's some bullshit. Some of the scariest deaths there," Dean murmured.

"So, if your so powerful, why can't you avoid them? You know, see into the future to what they'll do next?" Sam suggested, "Why need us?"

Dasha chuckled and lulled her head to the side, looking at Sam with an amused expression.

"Sammy, with great power comes great weaknesses. And I have quite a few," Dasha sighed, holding up her hands, ticking off each as she said it, "One, if I go more than an hour without water, pure water, my heath starts deteriorating rapidly. Two, I can't see my own future. It keeps Seers from using their powers for personal gain. Three, I can't see the futures of supernatural beings."

"Whoa, wait. If you can't see the futures of supernatural beings, then how can you see Lucifer's?" Dean demanded, taking a threatening step towards her.

"Ah, loophole! When supernatural beings involve themselves too much with us mortals, their futures become easier to see. Still blurry, mind you, but I'm still able to pick up vague images," Dasha waved at him, ignoring Dean's threatening posture.

"And Lucifer has tied his destiny with Sam very closely," Castiel murmured, eyes traveling to Sam, who froze in his chair.

The tension seemed thick in the air as Dean glared down at Dasha, who simply yawned, unfazed by Dean's silent threaten.

"This is fucking bullshit!" Dean exploded, spinning away from her to pass at the end of the bed, "All this talk about destiny and the future. Are you telling me that freewill is an illusion too? You AND Michael? Bullshit! I refuse to believe that."

"No, Dean, I'm not telling you that," Dasha said, her tone suddenly very serious. This was enough to stop Dean in his tracks.

"Think of my visions as a fogged mirror. Shapes are indistinct and barely visible,but with concentration, I can make out one or two things. As a person makes a choice, their future becomes clearer and clearer until they actually step onto the path and then is becomes the present. All seers are like this," Dasha nodded.

"If all Seers are like this, then what makes you so powerful?" Dean snarled, still on edge from her previous statement. Dasha compared him to a dog with his hackles raised.

"Most Seers can only see a few paths, and even then, only a few days or a week into the future. Dasha can see every path of every person until the end of the world," Castiel spoke first while Dasha rested her head on the pillow closing her eyes as if to sleep.

* * *

Dean sat in the chair in the corner, a glass of unfinished whiskey in his left hand, his right resting on the arm of the chair. He gaze was trained on the lump on the bed, trying his damnedest to burn a hole right through the blanket with his glare. No matter what she said to the contrary, Dasha's mere presence made Michael's words ring true. And he was pissed at her for that.

At a sound of a quiet chime from the clock on the wall, Dean's eyes snapped up and he took another gulp of whiskey. Any moment, any moment now, she'd wake up, glance at him and then grab a glass of water. God, how did she do it? Waking up every hour on the hour all night? He'd go stir crazy. Just as he thought, Dasha's form stirred and she pushed back the covers. Padding quietly to the bathroom, there was the sound of the faucet running and then turning off. Then she padded back in, but instead of going to the bed as she previously done every other hour, she came over and kneeled in front of Dean.

"Your doubting me, aren't you?" she murmured quietly, eyes sliding over to Sam's covered form in the other bed.

"I have to. I can't believe I'm going to give into Michael and say yes," Dean snarled quietly back at her.

She tilted her head to the side and smiled sadly.

"Dean, I don't think you understand. I don't see a set future, like how you think. I can see vague images of every single choice that you can possibly conceive. Every one. Simultaneously. When one becomes impossible, it fades to the background," Dasha told him.

"That must drive you insane," Dean muttered, eyes narrowing as he watched her. Maybe she was insane.

"Is has, actually. Twelve times," Dasha confided in him.

Dean stared at her,waiting for her to tell him she was joking, that it was all just a funny joke and she crack her usual confident smile. Instead her sad smile faded and she looked tired, worn out, as if she had endured 80 years of life instead of 20 or 30.

"Isn't it ironic? Twelve, the same number of disciples of Jesus Christ. I've figured out it comes down to three numbers; three, six, and twelve. Always," Dasha murmured, gulping down the water she had gotten.

"What'd you see that made you lose it?" Dean was almost afraid to ask. What could drive _this_ spit-fire insane must be incredible.

"The first it was simply because I was given my powers. It's enough to drive any five year old out of her mind. He told me then that it wouldn't last, that it'd take some getting used to was all. The rest, well, anyone who see the apocalypse would be driven mad by it," Dasha sighed.

"Who told you that? I thought Seers inherited their powers, not given them," Dean questioned, suddenly alert and paying very close attention to her answer.

As she looked up at him, her eyes became distant. A quiet sob of joy escaped her as she let herself remember. Finally she spoke, a single word on a expressed breath.

"God."

**A/N: DUN Dun dun. I like this little private moment between Dean and Dasha. Makes Dasha seem more reachable to me. It also gives a little insight to how Dasha works. Plus, I like this miny cliff-hanger. ^^**

**Read, enjoy, and review!**

**-Dasha  
**


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